


Brothers In Arms

by primeideal



Category: FTL: Faster Than Light (Video Game)
Genre: Brothers, Epistolary, Gen, Names, Species Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 13:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6908668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/pseuds/primeideal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the correspondence of Robert Smith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brothers In Arms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VampirePaladin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampirePaladin/gifts).



> Huge thanks to Impala_chick for taking this on as a beta, any remaining errors are mine!

ENCRYPTED COMMUNICATIONS: FEDERATION MILITARY PROTOCOL

Dear Glizxastg,

I've done it! At last, I greet you in solidarity from a fellow Federation vessel, out in the depths of an uncharted nebula. Obviously the specifics of my crew's assignment are a bit hush-hush, but I'm sure you're proud to know we're doing very, very important work.

Suffice it to say my fellows have been quite accommodating when it comes to understanding species-specific needs. Our craft is remarkably human-scale, but you'd like it. I've been given shield duty, with the caveat that I may get to see hand-to-appendage combat if we're boarded.

The parental units send their concern and affection. Father offers much unsolicited advice on preserving morale among your ship, and Mother pleads for you to write, especially with suggestions on which sectors have the best exchange rate for drone upgrades. If only she trusted me to divert the rebellion's course towards her nearest competitors!

Your blood brother,  
Robert

 

—

Peskinrch,

Truly the state of the Federation is more dismal than I thought if they are not only taking recruits as immature as you, but not even bothering to disabuse them of species-related delusion either. The committed loyalists will persevere despite this news, but it bodes poorly.

-Glizxastg

—

Dear Glizxastg,

You're on the _Bonacci_ , right? The Zoltan ship? If so, I'm sorry to hear about the loss of your comrade. We're recuperating from a rough battle at a picked-over beacon, but the data records here suggest that some of the Federation soldiers have been trying to combat the arachnid infestations that break out every so often. It's good to know there are still inspirations.

All the best,  
Robert

—

Peskinrch,

I believe the records of my ship are classified. Where did you get Mairu's files?

(Rereading this, I suppose that's an “affirmative,” by the way. Such is our “luck” that we found a sleep-mode Engi to try and cover for her—Charles still flinches if you push his buttons the wrong way, but he'll charge the weapons as fast as anyone, so I guess that's all we can ask for. No one could really replace the power Mairu brought to the ship, literally _or_ figuratively.)

But seriously, keep your antennae out of the way.

\- Glizxastg

—

  
Dear Glizxastg,

I told you, I'm a registered Federation soldier. I have military-level clearance to view all records for allied vessels, and I remembered the enlistment documents you showed us when you left home. To be honest, I never thought I'd get on a ship that was as distinguished as yours. It was perhaps a stroke of good fortune that brought me here, but any port in an ion storm.

Mairu sounds like a valiant soldier indeed. Unfortunately, I haven't bonded with my fellows aboard the [omitted] quite as well; the Engi crew don't seem to take to outsiders well. It's a great honor to serve under a human captain, of course, but he's a little busy running around and empathizing with his fellow sapients and doing all kinds of human things, so he doesn't really have much time for me. I've tried to keep busy learning the ship's computer. Luckily, their sparring module isn't very advanced. I'd hate to overexert myself...Here's to continued peace, at least for the next few beacons.

Yours in hope,  
Robert

—

To whom it may concern,

An official query has been made of the Federation military records to which you have alluded. They contain absolutely nobody named Peskinrch, nor a ship named [omitted].

I hope you will understand that in the interests of security, I am forced to break off communications.

Apologetically,  
Glizxastg

—

Gliz, drop the act, it's me. If you run a search you'll find me under my legal name, Robert Smith. And of course [omitted] isn't our craft's actual name, I just, you know. Omitted it.

Maybe you're afraid I went to the rebellion or joined a pirate crew or something, but I think I've just established that I have military clearance. If you are still seriously worried about my identity, I can prove that as many times over as you like. Remember that time I tried to build a buckyball out of Mother's comlink? Or when Cousin Nishliffwen tried to eat Asteyggralf, and he fled to the next beacon over? Father said that seceding from the Federation would be an overreaction in the case of attempted cannibalism, but an understandable one under the circumstances. Or how about that time you were lazy and downloaded a Zoltan vid-loop about sectarian stereotypes rather than answer Jehaccdl's assignment about proto-Mantis associations with prayer?

I was so jealous, I wanted to take Jehaccdl's class too, and learn about what humans thought of other species when they first made contact. But by the time I was old enough she'd taken up with some of the rebel sympathizers during the first wave. I guess we'll never know what she taught them, or what they put their faith in.

Yours (and I mean it!),  
Robert

—

Hello,

I'm sorry, this is still all hard for me to process. I don't mean to take this part out on you at all, but for some context, we were boarded by rebels a jump back and of course, I was called upon to fight them off. We tried to flush them out, but one of them sabotaged the oxygen generator and Derrin had to go in and repair it. As I'm sure your “research” can verify, he was just a frail Zoltan, and he was caught in an aired-out chamber on his way back to the medbay, after the battle was won. Devastating.

His replacement is Charlotte, a Rock technician we rescued from captivity after a few blows to the slave ship. It's not much of a trade, I suppose—life aboard those evil vessels for probable death on ours. She's talkative for a Rock, which mostly consists of wanting to learn what we call everything, and she is pretty good at doing impersonations of her pirate captains. She even does what the Zoltans inform me is a fairly accurate Lanius accent, although I can't confirm.

The reason I underscore that I had to fight them off is because I'm, well, a Mantis. And while I know it sounds callous, I more or less came to terms a long time ago with the idea that my little brother might not be in my life forever. The rebellion isn't always kind to loyal Federals, random pirates could abduct a skilled engineer, even an unfortunate asteroid could prove fatal—and these were the dangers even _before_ you tried to come after me.

So if Peskinrch the Mantis is no more, one more victim of this absurd era we live in, I'll mourn like I do every loss—but at least I'll have a frame of reference for it. Run away from home, deny your name, deny your _species_ even, so be it.

But if you're going to all that trouble, why bother to still call me “brother”? If you were really human, you would know I—a Mantis through and through—would be nothing to you.

-Glizxastg

—

Glizxastg,

My condolences, first of all, on the death of your fellow crew. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how profound it is that two people from very different ends of the galaxy can wind up entrusting their lives to each other time and time again.

Why should it be so different with us? Even if you're Mantis and I'm human, we still share many memories. That time you cut your claw and I injured myself, taking apart the atmospheric racer that Stavvrinm crashed; our blood flowed together on the rust of the hydraulics component. In some human cultures that would make us honorary brothers, worthy of the titles! You see, human culture is so much richer than that of the Mantis world.

Of course, my Federation comrades are high-minded enough not to make disparaging remarks about my parentage, but I think my situation will become more common, rather than less, in the future. There are already Zoltan and Engi parents who have adopted the young of their allied species after the children were left orphaned by pirate raids or rebellion skirmishes, so it will soon be unremarkable for a human to be fostered by Mantis parents, too.

Until then, I remain,  
Robert Smith

—

Hey.

Let me try it this way, maybe. It's a cool day here on the _Bonacci,_ and I hope it's just because of how we've set the thermal regulators rather than because yet another breach is venting oxygen. The comedic routines are getting slightly repetitive but I'll have to count that as good news. It means we've stayed alive long enough to get on each others' nerves, and we just got a discount on door upgrades so hopefully I can hide behind some of them and the sound won't carry.

It's still hard trying to write to you like this, but I guess it could be worse. Soeni sees me lost for words, and gently, as only a Zoltan could, teases out my predicament by asking leading questions. Yes, I'm composing furtive correspondences. Yes, it's to someone I care for very dearly. Yes, I'm troubled that they're caught up so deeply in the vise of a lie. And of course, she naturally draws the “logical” conclusion: I must be trying to hide my secret love affair with a rebel soldier! Well, we had a novel laugh after _that_ was put to rest.

You mentioned our parents, whatever “our” means at this point. Have you heard any more from them? I cannot say I know what would happen were they to fall under the shadow of the rebel fleet. Please, if you have any news, let me know as soon as possible and I promise to do the same.

Your elder brother (?)  
Glizxastg

—

(GALACTIC REBELLION: STANDARD ISSUE NOTIFICATION)

To (whom/what) it may concern,

Congratulations! Your (planet/moon/asteroid/space station) has been reclassified into the jurisdiction of the galactic liberation movement! We look forward to sharing a more peaceful cosmos with you.

Please note that providing (weapons/scrap/recruits/supplies) to tyrannical governments is strictly prohibited. Violators will be (pirated/airlocked).

Specialists skilled in repairing damaged (engines/body parts) are expected to render their services to the transitional government as needed.

You may naturally be concerned about the well-being of your (offspring/clones/drone programs) in other sectors. While we cannot vouch for the safety of those individuals in enemy territory, we offer a policy of safe harbor for noncombatants.

Under no circumstances should you interfere with the installation of Anti-Ship Batteries on your homeworld, as these are a necessary part of our security programs to prevent (Federation/slaver) disruption.

If you have any questions about your new rights and privileges among the (brethren/sistren/comrades/hivemind/botnet), please contact your local sector representative, but be advised that the ability to communicate in real time from across interstellar space would be (a violation of the laws of physics/pretty great).

Welcome aboard!

(disseminated electronically in compliance with the Paperwork Reduction Act of 2222)

—

Dear Glizxastg,

No news from home, but do attempt to rest assured that I would let you know as soon as I did hear anything. I do have the feeling if there was any word, it might catch up with us before it got out your way.

I think you may be generalizing just a bit. It's not in keeping with this diversity we keep touting to assume diversity means homogeneity, after all! At least, I certainly hope not. No matter how many times I have to screw on the caps to the oxygen tank or hammer the shields back into place, I feel like I'm a bit slow on the uptake when it comes to finesse—I'll never learn as fast as the human who recruited me on board, but that doesn't lessen our common, well, humanity!

Just the other day we were repairing the [omitted] at a trading post (can you believe the prices they charge out here for a tune-up! simply outrageous), and our captain suggested investing in a clonebay to replace the medbay that's seen us through so many battles. (Well, the rest of them more than me, but you know what I mean.) It wasn't just nostalgia that made him see reason, though, but the unsettling implications such a decision would have on our little ship. Would a copy of myself who shares my DNA really be me? Or would he be just an imitation, with even less skill in everything I puzzle out so slowly than even me? Would he be so foolish to superficially decree that by his chance resemblance to noted warriors, he must be a _Mantis_? Perish the thought. Truly, a delusional twin would be even worse than an evil one.

Besides, I already have a brother as brave as any sapient entity could ask for.

Yours,  
Robert

—

You inane flatterer,

Yes, of course there's a reason you can't learn as fast as the humans, and there's no common humanity to lessen! I suppose when you naturally happen to drive off enemies faster than your captain does, you chalk it up to luck? Humble of you.

And yes, I can believe whatever prices you've been charged for a tuneup. Literally exorbitant. Trust me, it could be worse.

We agreed after our first casualty that none of us would have the protection of clone bays either—it isn't fair to the memories of those that went before us, and it's not like we have much literal or figurative energy to keep them on in a battle when enemies are coming every which way. But again I find myself wondering, if I could have saved even more of my allies by making a bold decision earlier, wouldn't even one life have been worth it? I know, I know, there's no time in this galaxy for second-guessing...

But Soeni is gone, caught between too many beams of ravaging light. Now we have Chuck, a sluggish Slug loiterer from a station just waiting to be hired. Why he thinks the scrap is worth it out here I have no idea. Does he have family back home he wants to send it to? Investing in some asteroid farm that'll take years to pay dividends, war or no war? Is he blowing it all on personal luxuries? Not even I know, and I'm the guy sharing a ship with him. Oh well.

-Glizxastg

P.S. Wait a minute, not that it it matters, but why do you think you would hear any news before I do?

—

Dear Glizxastg,

I can't help being naturally talented! Some people have experience in piloting spaceships; if I'd taken after Mother and Father, I'd have been a better engineminder. As it is, a few choice run-ins with unpleasant individuals has given me plenty of life experience in the worthy and honorable field of disposing of one's adversaries at close range. There's no shame in employing those skills on the Federation's behalf.

Please, once again, accept my sympathies for your loss. The tragedies you're experiencing alone would have been enough to make me wonder what sort of assignment you're on, considering the fact that we are doing very dangerous and top-secret work, and yet have not run into disaster on the scale that you have. This makes me think that you must be somewhere far from the advancing rebel fleet, where resources are scarce and the cost of ship repair is out-of-any-world. Of course, not even I have high enough clearance to get the _Bonacci_ 's flight path, just the records of your personnel after the fact, so don't worry about us.

Best of luck,  
Robert

—

Okay, come on. What do you mean “the advancing” rebel fleet? The rebel fleet goes wherever it wants, it's a civil war, they're trying to take over the galaxy. Space is three-dimensional (forget those crazy theorists who go on about, like, time counting as an extra or...something), they're spreading out in _every_ direction they can. Just because we happen to be, yes, somewhere sparse doesn't mean you or they should be able to hunt us down. Unless you think they'd be inefficient enough to move in some specific way because they had some specific objective in mind. In which case, please do contact the admiralty with your hypotheses. I'm sure they can use all the help they can get.

Sadly for the entire galaxy, I don't believe the rebels are dumb. So all of us had better stay safe out there.

-Glizxastg

—

Dear Glizxastg,

There's a secure way to contact the admiralty? How? Or if you have a channel to get through to them, let's find a place to rendezvous and I'll pass along the information I have. This could be critical. (It's not about rebel flight paths, just—information worth a detour to bring to their attention.)

Seriously, I don't know whether I should be appealing to you as your brother, because maybe you're going to be too proud to listen to me. But I’m telling you as a soldier—they need to hear this.

Write back soon,  
Robert

—

Sorry for any confusion. No, I don't have a secret in with the admiralty, any more than you do. I wish I did. I suppose that the observations about rebel ships aren't the most pressing concern, or if so, they can observe them from the relative security of wherever-they-are with a slightly more objective view than we can.

-Glizxastg

—

Dear Glizxastg,

Confound it all. Then I suppose I may as well make an accounting of my suppositions to _you,_ but do keep this wholly confidential if you can't contact the admiralty with it.

Broadly put, our craft has a specific purpose and destination in mind. And we have reason to believe we are being pursued, specifically, so that the rebellion's organized sweep across multiple sectors coincides with our evasive action. Given that, we all feel lucky on board not to have run into more trouble along the way. Perhaps their troops posted to patrol specific regions were not as well-staffed as we had projected, or perhaps our firepower is too much for them to handle. Either way, the rebels' movements are not as random as they might seem, and that's no sign of ignorance on their part. They have a calculated agenda, nefarious as it may be.

Take care,  
Robert

—

Dear “Robert,”

So help me, pride or no pride, I need a favor, and to my terror I've realized you may be the entity best-placed to deliver one. If you are unable to procure it, of course, no hard feelings, but our ship's computer has been depowered by an ion storm and searching obscure ancient records seems to be a bit beyond our capacity.

Do you happen to be aware of any famous engineers named “Charles,” or some variation thereof? Given the etymology of the name, I would assume any such engineers would probably be human, but these days one never knows.

Thank you very much.

-Your worried older brother

—

Gliz,

Sure I do! Depending on how old-school you want, the famous human Charles Babbage invented some kind of “difference engine”—an analog precursor of our hypermodern computers. Ridiculously impractical, by some standards. Then again, it never got fried in an ion storm.

Hope this helps!

-Robert

—

Dear Robert,

This may be the last dispatch I am able to send for some time, as the _Bonacci_ is approaching a delicate stage of its mission. Given that, I can only hope that it will give you a sense of my perspective.

We, too, have been doing highly perilous and secretive work, and have been doing it in such a way as to move away from what you might call an “advancing” rebel fleet. Unlike your vessel, apparently, we _have_ been met with heavy losses; of the four of us who left our initial sector, only I remain. No matter how many ships we shoot down, there's always another behind the next planet, and my resentment at the injustice has only grown. How can it be fair that we must defeat so many of them to reach the “safety” of the admiralty, where we may need to confront even the flagship itself, when all the rebels must do is strike down our one ship and all the intelligence we have gathered would die with us?

Only when you reached out to me did I realize that the federation might have time on its side. If the federation had granted the same information to others, perhaps we were clearing an easier path for those coming after us. Looking at it the other way around, it wouldn't matter how many of our ships they shoot down, so long as the last one gets through. Cold comfort, as it would matter a little to me in that hypothetical. But in times like these, any hope is enough. Even should we succeed, I obviously don't expect you to write back and leak sensitive mission assignment details. Either way, it gives me strength to know that I, too, have a brave brother fighting behind me in any eventuality.

As for the rest of the _Bonacci_ 's crew, they seek different paths towards unity. Of course, they are all replacements since launch, and all of them happen to be named some variant of “Charles.” They find it silly that I should have any other name and so—strictly for the purposes of ship camaraderie—I have been incentivized to style myself after a bygone enginemaster. While I'm sure you consider him nowhere as important as the 2050s mechanic who worked on those Mars shuttles and was apparently worthy of having his name copied, the guy you recommended is good enough. So though I'm still a proud Mantis, I sign off as:

Your brother,  
CeeBee the Ravager


End file.
